Brothers in Carterson
by AndyHood
Summary: What if Heath and Nick had a different first meeting. Unexpectedly captured Nick Barkley is sent to Carterson. Were his life is saved by a fellow prisoner. This is a story of two strangers that struggle to survive a hell on earth during the final year of the War Between the States. Finished.
1. Reflections

The rumbling of his concaved stomach was ignored by Heath Thompson as he huddled around the meager fire in front of him. There was no use complaining that he was hungry, everyone in Caterson was hungry. Those who weren't were usually dead or on the pay of the Rebs.

Heath was one of ten thousand men who were all contained on this 26 acres of land in Georgia. Heath could reach his hands out and touch at least ten other men around him. The area his tent was on was no bigger than a size of a grave.

"Heath?" came a voice from outside the meager tent. Heath pulled the flap back to find Nick outside. He held the flap a little wider to allow Nick to enter the tent and out of the fall chill. Nick settled down right next to Heath in front of the fire and held his hands over the tiny flames to warm them. Nick was still pretty new to Caterson, having just arrived two weeks ago but Heath could already see the mark left on everyone that entered Caterson. In the dark of the tent the light given from fire made the hollows of Nick's cheeks look deeper than they were, though there still was some fat left on his body.

Heath had saved Nick when a group of raiders had jumped him in broad daylight determined to strip the new arrival of everything of value he had on him. Heath had managed to fight them off the man and find clean water to dress the knife wound Nick had received in the skirmish. Ever since then the older soldier had deemed himself to be in Heath's debt and the two boys from California had entered an alliance.

But within days they grew to become close friends. Using both of their resources, they had managed to make a tent big enough for both of them to lay at night and shelter from the rain. The same tent they were huddled in tonight. On nights that it rained and it was too cold to sleep they would huddle close and Nick would fill the night with talk of his families ranch in California. Heath would lay there and take it all in, his mind imagining the wide open spaces and food that Nick described. Some nights Heath would return the favor and tell Nick stories of his home, the nicer memories that weren't tainted with people calling him a bastard. He talked of his Mother, his Aunt Rachel and Hannah, and how Strawberry was before the mines ran dry. The two men had many things in common, and as each day passed they grew closer. Until it seemed so natural that once Nick sat down, Heath moved closer so that their arms and knees were touching.

Nick gave him a soft smile before rifling around in his jacket pocket and pulled out a carrot. Heath mouth began to water at the sight of it and he watched with disbelief as Nick broke it in two. The crisp snap filled the tent with the earthy root and handed him a piece. Heath opened his mouth to refuse but shut it when Nick glared at him. "You eat that, no point of you dying of scurvy because you had a hard head." Heath couldn't believe it as he stared at the carrot that most men in Caterson would kill for.

Heath gingerly reached for the carrot, the first fresh vegetable he had seen in months. Before the war he couldn't stand the taste of the orange root, but now it tasted as fine as any four course supper. He forced himself to eat it slowly instead of shoving the whole thing in his mouth. "The sulter must have charge you quite a bit for this" he commented chewing slowly.

Nick grunted but did not offer any figure. Nick had been lucky, he managed to hold onto the money he had when he was captured through the multiple searches he had been subjected to. Now he used it to supplement the diet by buying goods from the sulters, though the high prices were a drain to his cash. Seeing Heath enjoy something so simple made Nick sad as he ate his own piece of the carrot. It was still so strange to fell full after eating something so meager, on days such as this Nick couldn't believe that he once had steaks as big as his face and an equal helping of potatoes and still fell hungry, when something like a carrot could fill him up now. Nick was drawn out of his musings as he felt a slight weight fall on his shoulder. Turning his head slightly he found that Heath had fallen asleep and his head had landed on his shoulder.

Nick smiled slightly but didn't move as he watched the small fire began to consume the last of the twigs that Heath had put on it. The older soldier didn't mind Heath falling asleep on him. It brought him a small amount of comfort to have him there, to not be alone in this hell on Earth. Nick had thought for sure that he would die when the Raiders jumped him. He had felt the cool metal of the knife across his chest and thought for sure that his throat would be cut within moments. He had thought of his Mother, Father, Jarrod, Eugene, and Audra and how sorry that he was that he wouldn't see them again. When the Raiders were suddenly gone and he was looking up into the worried face of a blonde boy who was more skeleton than man.

The boy had somehow found the strength and led/drag Nick back to his own tent where he somehow found clean water to flush out the wound made from the dirty knife. Nick knew that it was only because of this boy that the wound hadn't gotten infected and Nick being one of the hundreds loaded and buried in a mass grave outside the stockades wall. He was shocked to learn that the boy was only 16 and that he had been in the army for three years and one of those had been spent here in Caterson. Nick had only been there two weeks, he couldn't imagine what a year would do to him.

Nick longed to be back in Stockton working on the ranch with Father, back in California where the war had not touched. Every night when he closed his eyes he could see the house and his family and his heart longed to be there. But recently the dreams had brought a new addition to them. Nick knew that if he did survive this experience he would be bringing this scrawny kid with him. Though they both knew it was foolish to grow attached, when either one could die in a fight, disease, or breaking under the strain of prison life. Nick couldn't help but grow attached, maybe it was the blonde hair and blue eyes that reminded him so much of his little sister but he felt a brotherly fondness for the kid. Lord knows that Heath had no family waiting for him. Heath had explained that he had received a letter from his Aunt Rachel before his capture that his Mother had passed suddenly. Heath made no mention of a Father and Nick knew better than to ask. It didn't matter to him if Heath was a bastard or not, here at Caterson such things did not matter.

The only thing that mattered in Caterson was surviving from day to day. There was no garuntee that a person would live to see the morning. Except for those that made deals with the Confederate soldier. Nick could only feel disgust at his fellow soldiers who would rat out escape attempts. He had seen soldiers that had been marked at informants. Half their heads would be shorn and T cut in the scalp. These men were thought worse of then Raiders.

Yawning, Nick watched as the last of the twigs went out. The tent was now pitch black and the only sounds Nick heard were the groans of thousands of men. Caterson never was silent, there was always some sound. It drove Nick nuts the first few days, he couldn't sleep. The sounds of dying men haunted his dreams. But now two weeks later, it no longer bothered him anymore. And that worried him, he felt that he had lost a bit of his humanity and he was afraid of how much more he would lose the longer he stayed there. He wondered how Heath survived this for over a year, and yet he still had kindness and compassion?

Nick sighed, he knew that he would never find out the answer. He doubted Heath could give him a straight answer as to why he still had these traits. Heath couldn't even give Nick the reason why he helped him when the Raiders attacked him. Heath didn't need to risk his neck to help a stranger, but he did.

Nick shivered, the cool chill was invading the tent now that the fire had gone out. Nick pulled his jacket around his shoulders tighter and huddled next to Heath, trying to conserve body heat. Hoping that they both would wake in the morning.

* * *

So I recently wrote my 35 page senior thesis about comparing North and South prison camps during the Civil War. This story popped in my head from the result of that research. Hope you enjoyed and please review


	2. Trouble

Heath groaned as the sound of the bugle began to echo over the camp signaling the beginning of the day.

"I'd really love to kill that man" grumbled Nick underneath Heath's ear.

During the night the two men had become a tangle of limbs, Heath's head was actually resting on Nick's chest. The first couple of times this had happened, Heath had been embarrassed to wake up like this. But Nick assured him that it was all okay. Nick had woken many times in his life in the same position on his brother Jarod's chest, and had also woken with his brother Eugene, and sister Audra in the same position as Heath.

Little did Heath know that Nick helped encourage the position. Winter was coming for the South, though not as severe as in the North. Nick had heard stories of men who had been transferred here from Belle Island who told of men freezing to death in the night. The weather here in Georgia was nothing like in the Northern states. But the nights were getting colder and frost could be seen covering tents and the ground in the morning. Nick was very worried about Heath staying warm. Heath emancipated body wouldn't be able to handle getting sick. By keeping Heath warm in the night Nick was putting his mind at ease. Though he knew that he was also helping to enforce the idea in his mind that Heath was like a brother to him and it made him even more protective of the blond boy.

Heath manage to detangle himself and scoot out of the tent to stretch in the dim dawn of a new day. His breath formed a cloud as he breathed out. Nick grumbled but chose to lay in for a few more minutes before getting up. But Heath was well used to the routine of Carterson and he along with thousands of men headed towards the sinks on the far side of the camp.

The stench of the sinks was enough to make a person wish to never smell again. Thousands of men relieved themselves in the sink daily, and poor drainage let the waste set there and putrefy. Heath had unfortunately gotten used to the smell, though it still turned Nick's stomach. Many men did not bother the long walk anymore and relieved themselves all over the camp, but Heath still made the trip.

As soon as he was done with his business Heath headed towards the east gate of the camp. Every morning roll call was performed before rations would be handed out. Everyone who could walk and wasn't dead was expected to attend. Though already the death cart was entering the camp and beginning to collect bodies that lay outside their tents. Heath quickly found his unit as the long roll call began to begin.

The morning was already heating up, driving away the evening chill as Nick stood in his unit waiting for their turn to receive their morning rations along with roll call. It was lucky that today seemed to be a day they would receive a decent size ration. If Heath and he combined their corn ration then they would be able to make a decent size loaf to split, though it would mean using the last of the fuel they had stashed away to bake it. But having something warm and filling would be worth it.

The ground corn was like gold in Nick's hand as he quickly tied the sack shut and pushed it deep in his pocket. He was already fantasing of the warm loaf in his hand and roll call continued. It was over an hour later when the last of the rations had been passed out and all prisoners accounted for when the door to the office opened and the figure of Matt Bentell walked through the gates of the prison. A cold feeling of dread crept up Nick's spine, in his two weeks here at Carterson he had seen Matt Bentell enter the stockade only once and that was on a whipping day. The stockade seemed to still as they took in the sight of the commandant of their prison. Everyone knew that upon his word the whole stockade could be fired on. Even now soldiers began to appear on the walkways guns at the ready.

Bentell's voice was loud and clear as he spoke, and thousands froze at the sound of his words. "I have been informed that some of you boys are digging a tunnel" he announced.

With these words a group of guards entered the prison and headed to the west wall and the whole compound watched as they began to dig. Time flew as an hour passed and the guards called out when six feet down they dug through the roof of the tunnel. Despair and anger filled the camp, despair that another escape attempt had been discovered and anger that one of their own had turned the information over to Bentell. The guards made short work of collapsing the tunnel and covering it back up. After they were done the guards went into the crowd and began to drag prisoners out, most cried and fought against them, but they were no match for the better fed guards.

Matt Bentell liked to make examples of men who tried to escape. The first whipping Nick had witnessed had been a group of men who engineered a tunnel where thirteen had been able to clear the wall only to be shot down in cold blood. Heath had admitted to Nick that he had been helped dig that tunnel but had missed the escape night because he had been taking care of Nick. Nick wished that he could go back to the tent and not witness what was to happen. Nick was glad that none of the people that they were dragging forward was known to him.

"Let me go!" yelled out a familiar voice and Nick watched as Heath was dragged forward. He looked even smaller than usual in the firm grip of the guards that were dragging him towards the posts were he would be forced to kneel with his hands tied above him to receive a lashing. Already three others had been tied in such a way, the supposed ringleaders of the tunnel. But Nick knew that Heath was not one of them, he would have told Nick if he was participating in another tunnel. If Heath was involved he might have help dig, but he did not help plan it.

Nick pushed his way through the crowd as Heath was forced to his knees, his shirt ripped off his back. Nick reached the outer rim of the crowd as the guard picked up the whip.

"Stop! He's just a boy" yelled Nick struggling against guards, trying to reach for Heath. But the guards were too strong for his emancipated frame and he could only watch as the whip came down repeatedly on Heath's back. Every time Heath screamed a bit of Nick died with him. The whipping seemed to go on for hours and when Matt Bentell seemed to think it was enough Heath's back was a mass of bleeding torn flesh and Heath no longer screamed.

Nick rushed forward and caught Heath as his hands were released from the post and he fell backwards. As bad as Heath's screams had been, the lack of reaction as his back hit Nick's arms was even more worrying. His half opened eyes were glazed and shivers racked though his small frame. Nick's body shook in rage and worry as he picked up Heath's tiny frame and carried him back to the tent. The crowd of prisoners parted the waters as he approached until he finally reached his tent.

Nick laid Heath as carefully as he could on his stomach on the dirt floor and then forced himself to look at Heath's back. He had seen so many gory sights during this war, limbs blown off, bodies bloated past recognition, and hogs feasting on dead flesh. But the sight of Heath's back made Nick want to throw up. He didn't know how to treat that with no medicine or clean water. But he did know that he had to get Heath warm and pull him out of this state. Nick arranged Heaths limbs so that they were close to his body and draped there only blanket over his legs, while using his jack to elevate his legs. He then took the precious pieces of wood and started a fire as close as he could to Heath. All thoughts of baking bread were very far out of his mind, though he paused long enough to take the bags of rations and place them in a hole Heath had dug to hid rations. Losing rations now could easily sentence Heath to death just as quick as infection.

The tent began to grow warm and Nick waited patiently as the shivers grew less and less and Heath gave a low moan of pain. Nick wished he had some laudanum to help Heath with the pain as Heath slowly began to wake up.

"Nick" he groaned, his blue eyes blinking. His head felt heavy and he was confused, all he saw was Nick kneeling next to him his shirt covered in blood.

"Shh Heath, don't try to move" said Nick gently smoothing Heath's hair out of his face.

But instead of listening to him, Heath immediately tried to push himself up. Heath barely began to put pressure on his hands when he let out a strangled scream and black dots danced in front of his eyes.

"Dammit Heath, I told you not to move" yelled Nick, he was worried, and in his worry showed as anger.

Heath immediately stopped moving, but couldn't help the quiet whimpers that left his mouth as his back throbbed in pain, he felt as if heat waves were just rolling off his back.

Nick quickly apologized. But Nick was clutching at straws, he was in a terrible position. He didn't know what to do. He did not have the connections in camp like Heath did, he didn't know who to go to to get what he needed. Nick hated this, he hated feeling powerless.

But he promised himself, he would do anything in his power to help Heath.


	3. Promises

Gill Condon struggled to walk through the camp with his precious cargo. His leg was still healing and there was still a chance he could lose it despite the good Commandant's medicine. He wished he was dead, thirteen men were dead because of him. Aaron might have thought that was a worthy trade for his life, but Gill did not. He really shouldn't be out of his tent now, he had to slip past his cowardly brother. But little Heath Thompson needed help.

The whole camp was abuzz with what had happened. How Matt Bentell had whipped an innocent boy. Those who had been in on the tunnel swore that the boy had never been in on it. But Bentell had him whipped anyway. Heath had been a friend to both Gill and Aaron and tried to help Gill when he was first injured and here in this hell hole, that meant a lot. So Gill was going to repay the favor, he had a spoonful of laudanum left and he was going to make sure that Heath got it.

Many prisoner ignored the man struggling to walk with a crutch as he made his way deeper into the tent city with something men would kill over for in Carterson. But like many he was ignored, and Gill was glad for that. The camp had been silent after the drama of what had happened in the morning. Even the Raiders had quit their daily shake downs after the events of the morning. It made Gill's job of moving around easier, and gave him more time to think of why he was doing this.

Heath was a diamond in the rough. No matter what this place threw at him, he always seemed to retain his goodness. Something Gill was grateful for that when it prevented Heath from being in the tunnel that Aaron sold out. From what Gill had heard, the man he saved the day of the escape was very protective of the small blonde. It had been him who had carried the kid off after the whipping was over. Rumor was that the two were sharing a tent space.

Gill only stopped once in his quest across the compound and that was to ask a prisoner if he knew which tent was Heath's and thankfully the man knew which tent was the one he was looking for. Balancing on his one good leg he used the other to knock on the main support of the tent.

Moments later a tall man came out of the tent and towered over Gill. The dark scowl matched the strangers dark hair as he looked down on the small man. Gill could defiantly tell that this man was still a new arrival. His frame was tall and filled out, quite the intimidating man.

"Yes?" he growled glaring down at Gill.

"This Heath Thompsan's tent?" asked Gill studying the dark haired soldier in front of him. It was plan that the man was a recent arrival. He had too much body fat still on him to be anything else. Before the man could answer a moan filled the air, and Gill's heart clenched as he listened.

The sound of the moan from the tent, made the man's face seem as if it had been carved from stone. "What's it to you."

Gill carefully dug in his pocket and drew out the botte and handed it over the dark haired soldier

"Here, sounds like Heath needs this more than me" said Gill pushing the bottle into Nick's hands.

Nick eyed the bottle suspiciously before slowly unscrewing the cap and sniffed. He looked up in shock when he registered what was in the bottle, but Gill was already limping away. Nick debated going after him, but another moan from Heath had Nick going back into the tent.

Heath was slowly regaining conscious. But this time he did not try to move. His back was throbbing and he could feel heat escaping him as he lay on his stomach. Even the soft rustle of the tent flap caused Heath to groan in pain as his head throbbed.

"Heath" came the worried voice of Nick. Heath pealed his eyes open taking in the sight of Nick kneeling down next to him before his large hand covered his forehead.

"You're burning up" he whispered.

Heath sluggishly blinked before deciding that it was too much effort to speak. Unbiddingly a groan escaped his lips.

"Shhh" soothed Nick, brushing Heath's hair gently off of his forehead. Nick looked down the bottle that was in his hand. There was no thought of not giving it to Heath, but when. There as only a tiny bit of laudanum left in it and Nick had to use it sparingly. But the sound of the groans decided Nick's mind for him.

Carefully he poured a quarter of the bottle into a spoon, careful not to spill a single drop. With gentleness that was unexpected for such a large man, he carefully lifted Heath's head. "Heath, I've got something to take away the pain."

Heath gladly took what Nick offered, he was shocked at the taste of laudanum.

"Where?" he whispered looking up at Nick as the small bottle was stashed along with that day's rations.

"He didn't tell me his name but he knew you, said you needed it more than him. It looked like he had a bum leg."

Heath blinked slowly, his mind didn't seem to want to focus. He felt that he should know who Nick was talking about, but it wouldn't come to him. The medicine began to work quite quickly as the pain began to lessen. Heath tried to keep his eyes open as Nick began to look at his back, but his eyes grew too heavy and he was soon back in sleeps warm embrace.

Nick looked at the wounds left by the whip, they were an angry red color. Nick knew that it was a bad sign. If the wounds became infected, gang green would almost certainly set in. The thought of Heath slowly wasting away even more as infection spread was making Nick's stomach flip. Gang green was a death sentence, unlike a limb, Nick could not cut it off. Nick silently promised himself that he would not allow Heath to suffer if that happened. As much as Nick would be haunted for the rest of life, he would release Heath from his suffering.

But that would be his absolute last resort, he would try his damndest to make sure it never came to that. He looked around the tent and took stock on what he needed to do. His first priority now was cleaning the wounds the best he could. But finding clean water in Caterson was akin to finding a needle in a hay field. He didn't even know how Heath managed it for him. He never thought to ask Heath how he managed it.

Looking at the fire, he knew that the best he could do would be to boil water. But he needed wood to keep the fire going, and the last few twigs were quickly burning away. Today was one of the few times that a wood detail was allowed to go out and gather, and Nick knew he had to find a way onto that detail so that he would actually get some. But he was uneasy to leave Heath in the state he was in, but he forced himself to ignore the sound of the whimpers Heath was making in his sleep. The laudanum had taken away most of the pain, but not all of it.

More time had passed than what he realized, as the afternoon sun shone down on Nick. He would have to hurry or else miss his opportunity. Nick marched determinedly to the gates where Bentell's office was located. A guard at the entrance signaled that Bentell was in. Nick marched right up the guard.

"I need to speak with Major Bentell" snarled Nick glaring at the guard.

"No Yankee scum talks to the Major, go back to whatever hole you crawled out of boy" sneered the guard.

"Let him pass Private" said a voice from the doorway and both turned to see Bentell standing there.

Nick glared at the guard as he stepped around him and stood in front of Bentell.

"Now what can I do for you soldier?" asked Bentell staring down at Nick from his place above him.

"Major Bentell, I would like to be on wood detail today" Nick said between clenched teeth.

The Major said nothing except to calmly study Nick. "You were the prisoner from this morning" observed the Major. "The one that carried his friend away."

Nick bite his tongue hard to stop his temper from exploding. "I was Sir."

Bentell seemed to think for a moment before asking, "Do you swear, on your honor that you will not try to escape?"

"I'm not going anywhere" growled Nick staring Bentell in the eye.

Major Bentell gave him a thoughtful look, "I don't imagine you will"" he said before he turned around clearly dismissing Nick.

"Private make sure he is added to the wood detail."

"Yes Sir" answered the guard. The guard turned to Nick, "This way Yank."

The guard led him to the south gate where a wagon and a handful of fellow soldiers were gathering. Nick didn't have to wait long before enough Rebs had assembled to guard them. Very slowly the south doors opened, and for the first time in weeks Nick walked out into the open.

Nick was shocked as he drew in a deep breath of fresh air. He had forgotten that air could smell so sweet. For a traitorous moment his mind whispered that he could escape, he didn't have to go back to that hellhole. It was common for men on wood detail to slip away from the guards and run. Few ever made it very far before being recaptured but a handful managed to escape. Nick's mind whispered that he could be one of those few to make it all the way back.

But then the image of Heath's blue eyes appear in his mind and he knew that there was no way he was leaving that kid to die back in the prison. If Heath was going to die it was after Nick exhausted every way he could to help. He wasn't going to let Heath die alone.

Nick set to work collecting fallen pieces of wood. No matter how big or how small he picked it all up and put it into the wagon. He knew that every piece was worth its weight in gold. The wagon was almost was full when he saw it.

Nick gently set down the armful of wood he had collected and approached the willow tree. He might not be able to get medicine for Heath, but willow bark tea would help. He quickly cut big strips of the bark from the tree and stuffed in in the small bag he used to carry extra rounds. He stuffed as much as he could in the bag.

"You there, get back to the wagon, were going back to the camp" ordered a nearby guard, his rifle pointing at Nick as if he though Nick would make a run for it. Nick quickly put his pocket knife back into his pocket, and picked up his arm load of wood that he had set down quickly. It would be better to not lollygag around when there was a trigger happy Reb who could care less if there was one less prisoner to guard back at the camp.

Nick's feet dragged as they drew closer to the camp. It was bittersweet to leave the trees, grass, and fresh air. There was so much life outside the wooden walls, and so much death within. From his position Nick could see the grave diggers digging a new trench to bury the dead near the east wall of the prison. The death wagon was making its way out of the South door, overflowing with dead naked men. There cloths had already been stripped and probably distributed to fellow prisoners. Nick shivered at the thought of Heath being one of the nameless men being buried in a shallow trench, with no words spoken over him or even a proper marker.

Just those grim thoughts made Nick even more determined as he walked through the tent city with an armful of wood, not twigs but actual limbs that would take a while to burn. He tried to go down less populated areas. People had been killed for less in Caterson, and Nick was a prime target with a valuable resource taking both hands to carry, he was essentially vulnerable. He somehow made it back to his tent without any trouble.

Nick sighed as he entered the tent to find that Heath was basically in the same position he had left him in and that he was still asleep. Nick stashed the wood on the far side of Heath, in the shadows. He then grabbed the small pot Heath had brought with him when they joined tents. Nick walked across the compound heading towards the head of the creek that flowed through the camp. It was the only place Nick could think of to get semi clean water. He would not dare to try to get some downstream. To thousands of men this creek was the only source for drinking and bathing water, and relieving oneself.

The smell alone was enough to make Nick want to gag, but he couldn't afford to lose what was in his stomach. He passed hundreds of men performing all three of the mentioned activities. He walked as far upstream as he could, until he reached the dead line. Even here the water had a film on it from backwash. Nick dipped the pot into the cleanest looking part and made the long trip back to the tent.

Once back in the tent he built up the fire and hung the pot over it and added the willow bark. Nick then took off his shirt, the cleanest piece of cloth he owned. He began to tear the shirt into strips to use both as bandages and rags to clean his back.

As soon as the water was hot Nick took it off the fire and then used this shirt to clean the wounds on Heath's back as best as he could. He managed to coax about half of the remaining willow tea down Heath's throat.

Only after he had finished that did he focus on another main problem, their stomachs. Nick reached into the food storage hole and pulled out there corn rations. His original plan was out, reaching into the bag he let the corn run through his fingers. It was rough ground, and would tear their intestines to piece he they tried to eat it as is. Laying the corn bag as flat as he could on a rock, he took another rock and begun to crush it more finely between two rocks. Once he made it as fine as it could he put it in the pot with what was left of the willow water creating a bastard version of grits. He made sure to wake Heath so that he could eat his own share before Nick started on his own. It wasn't the corn bread he expected to make that morning, but the warm corn mush filled his stomach.

Nick leaned back and allowed himself to rest for a moment. In a few short hours he would have to get up for evening roll call. Nick prayed that rations would be handed out. To many nights Heath had warned that evening roll call would be a formality and no rations would be handed out.

Nick reached over and smoothed the hair out of Heath's face. He hoped the war would end soon, to many men had died and he wanted nothing more than to go home. Home to where the war hadn't touched, and he wanted to bring this blonde boy with him. There was just something about this boy that made Nick want to protect him, and like hell would he roll over and let Heath die without a fight. Even if he had to crawl to hell and back he would not give up on this boy.

Heath forehead began to scrunch up as a nightmare began to grip the boy.

"Shhh" Nick whispered continuing to smooth the hair back. "It's alright Heath, I'm watching over you" he whispered.

Slowly Heath's forehead smooth back out as he listened to Nick's voice, subconsciously knowing that he was safe with that voice.


	4. Journey's

A week had passed since the whipping and instead of getting better Heath was getting worse. Day and night he burned with fever. Tossing and turning from nightmares, he constantly reopened the barely healed wounds on his back. Some of which had begun to ooze a clear liquid. A tell-tale sign of infection.

Nick spent more and more time within the tent tending to Heath, who had not fully woken up lucid since the second day after the whipping.

"You will love the ranch Heath" murmured Nick as he wiped the sweat off of the boy's forehead. "My Father and Mother settled on beautiful land, land that stretches as far as the eye can see with no walls and everything is green. And water comes down from the mountains, cool and clear and enough to sate anyone's thirst. My Father built a cabin up in those mountains and there is great hunting and fishing, a man could find real peace up there."

He paused to spoon another spoonful of willow tea down Heath's throat, massaging his throat so that he would swallow.

"Our butler Silias, makes the best biscuits and he always tries to feed people more than they can eat. When we get home he'll probably won't let us leave the table for a full week, that is if Mother hasn't locked us in a room. You'll be welcomed to stay as long as you want as my guest. But if you get too bored you can help me on the range, Lord knows that I will need someone that I can trust to get things done during roundup and calving season. If you can't tell I'm basically saying I'm keeping you. Which of course you brought upon yourself with your blonde hair and blue eyes, and you saving me. You awoke my brotherly instincts, so you can blame yourself for. My younger brother Eugene is not much younger than you. But I already know he won't be no cattleman. He's like my older brother Jared, he likes books to much. And I don't know about my sister, she was just a kid when I left. Probably a young lady now."

Nick sighed as the memories washed over him, but he pushed them away and continued to talk about the future. A part of him believing that if he talked about it enough that it would turn into a reality. "So you can see my problem. Besides my Pa, I have no one to work the ranch with besides the hired hands. I need someone who I can trust to keep up with me, which again is your fault since you saved me."

Nick sighed as the sound of evening roll sounded. He was reluctant to leave, but he needed the rations that might be there. Following the steady stream of prisoners, Nick got into his unit to be counted for the night. But all the soldiers were surprised when from the office came the figure of Matt Bentel. It was once in a blue moon if the man showed himself for evening roll call. Nick twitched in his place, he couldn't help but think bitterly that someone else was about to be whipped to an inch of his life.

"Men, I have been you Commandant for all of you ever since you walked through that door. A lot of you might disagree, but I have tried my best to be fair. Now you might be wondering why I am addressing you. But for many of you this will be glad tidings. The South is losing boys, and we are losing badly. We can't feed our own boys, let alone thousands of prisoners. Which is why I have received orders today. Tomorrow morning all those that are strong enough we be loaded onto trains and shipped North. For you boys, the war is over, go home."

With that Bentell turned and walked back into his office. Nick and the rest of the prisoners stood there dumbly not processing what Bentell had just told them. Finally the message seemed to sink through.

"We're going to be able to go home!" said one soldier beside Nick, looking more alive than a skeleton had a right to be.

Nick couldn't believe it. He would be able to get Heath help in a Northern hospital. Nick could hardly wait to his rations. All around the prison the spirit lifted like it never had before as the news spread and prisoners began to prepare for the journey the next day. Nick wished Heath was aware so that he could tell him. Knowing that they were going to get out, was something that Heath could have used to keep going.

Nick could hardly sleep, but he managed to catch a few hours before sunrise. Using the last of the willow, Nick forced another cup down Heath's throat and bathed the wounds in it before using his coat to wrap around Heath's back. Nick remembered the train ride down to Carterson. How crapped and disgusting the cars got. The coat would help protect Heath's wounds from getting something bad into the open sores.

Making sure that he had everything that was important, Nick took Heath into his arms and left the little tent for the last time. Though it was earlier than roll call was taken, men were already walking, crawling, and even dragging themselves towards the main gate where they would be led to the train. Keeping his head down, and walking with a group Nick managed to pass the guards at the main gate. It hadn't escaped his notice last night that Bentell had said healthy prisoners. None of the prisoners in Carterson were healthy but Nick supposed Bentell meant that those that could walk on their own would be allowed to get on the train North. Nick prayed that the guard taking roll would welcome a bribe or else he would be staying with Heath here at the prison.

Even though the song of freedom called to him, Nick couldn't in good conscious just leave Heath to die in Carterson while he himself got on the train North. The line was long but moved quickly. Some men were openly weeping as they left the walls for the first time since they arrived. They took deep breaths of fresh air that was clear of the smoke that hovered over the prison. Others were gazing at the sight of green grass growing. A splash of color that had been unknown inside the prison walls.

A single guard stood at the front of the cars writing down the names of those who boarded, while several others patrolled the line between the train and the prison. Soon Nick was standing before the recorder.

The guard didn't look up as he stared in his book. "Name?"

"Nick Barkley and Heath Barkley" said Nick. The guard looked up at the sound of two names from one voice, his eyes staring blandly at Heath cradled in Nick's arms.

"Only healthy prisoners get on this train, Major Bentell's orders" said the guard. "Take him back to camp and you can return."

"Please, he needs a Doctor and getting out of here is his only chance" pleaded Nick. The guard didn't seem moved at his plea so Nick changed tactics. "Also I can pay you if you will just look the other way, Union dollars."

This seemed to catch the guards attention as his eyes sharpened on Nick. "How much you got Yank?"

Nick hesitated not knowing if he should start out low and then go higher if the guard refused. But decided that he would just say the whole amount that he had left. "Thirty dollars, cash money."

The Guard seemed to study Nick, "Let me see the money first."

Nick shifted Heath to reach into his pocket and drew out his last thirty dollars and showed it to the guard. The guard quickly snatched the money from Nick's hand and seemed to weigh it in his hand.

"Alright, be quick about it."

Nick thanked God as he entered the cattle car and pushed his way to the back, out of sight of any other guards. The car was quickly filled up with other prisoners, until a man could barely turn around. It was hot and it was miserable but there was a sense of hope within the prisoners. A small cheer went up as the car jolted and groaned before it finally began to pull away from the station heading North.

But even that sense of hope was soon forced away as the heat of the railcar amplified the stench that soon secreted every inch of the box car as men were forced to do their business where they stood. Nick pressed as close to the walls as he could, letting the wind created from the movement of the train cool him down as well as let him breath fresh air.

The train stopped only a few times, but none of these times were prisoners allowed out of the cars. No rations, no water was passed out and night fell, men were forced to sleep on their feet.

Even though Heath was nothing but skin and bones, Nick's arms shook from holding him. Nick eventually had to lower Heath to his feet and have him lying against his chest. With Heath's head on his chest, Nick could feel his continued breathing. Nick propping himself against the wall of the grain allowed the rocking motions of the car to let him drift into a semi state of sleep. Where he was aware of what was happening around him, such as Heath lying against him. All night Nick drifted in this state, occasionally jerked to full awareness when the train rocked harshly or made another stop. By the time morning came, Nick was exhausted but wide awake when the car came to a stop again.

But unlike the last stops, there was sounds of people messing with the locks of the cattle car. All around Nick's fellow soldiers became aware. When the door opened, everyone including Nick expected to see more grey uniforms of the Confederates. But he and everybody else was surprised to see the crisp blue uniforms of the Union.

The young soldier that had opened the door look dumbstruck at the sight and the smell of the men before him. So overwhelmed was the boy, that he quickly ducked out of view and the sound of vomiting could be heard. An older soldier with grey in his hair stepped into view.

"Let's get you men down from there" said the man in a thick Irish accent. He reached out and helped the men in the front begin to step down. Nick waited patiently until he was one of the last. To the Irish man he handed down Heath. "Please be careful with him."

The Irish man looked at Nick with compassion but no pity in his eyes as he gently took Heath from him. "It's alright laddie I've got him."

Another soldier reached up and helped Nick down to the platform."My God," Nick heard some of the Union soldiers whispered as they caught sight of the emancipated frames that exited the train car. Nick imagined that it was a gruesome sight to behold. Men who looked nothing like men, but more like walking skeletons. Some litters were bringing brought up to carry off the prisoners that had perished in the grueling ride to freedom. Prayers were whispered by fellow prisoners as those men passed. It was a cruel joke that the prison hadn't killed them, but the ride home had. The young soldiers averted their eyes completely.

Nick knew that they were a frightful sight. But he felt no shame in his appearance. He had survived hell on earth, which was more than some of these fresh faced looking boys could say. Nick turned to take Heath back, but the Irish man shook his head.

"This lad needs a Doctor. We were expecting healthy men, the Doctors will soon be overwhelmed by you lot. I will get you there first so that they can see to him. Follow me."

Nick didn't argue with the men, not as long as it meant getting Heath the help he most desperately needed. Though he felt that he needed to say something the Irish man. "Sir, these are the healthy prisoners."

The Irish man stopped in his tracks to stare at Nick, "These are the healthy men?"

Nick nodded, "Anyone with the strength to walk is considered extremely healthy Sir. And those that couldn't weren't allowed on it. Unless you had money to bribe the guards to look away" explained Nick.

The Irish man looked furious, but seemed to remember that Heath was in his arms. "I will have to inform the General this. But first the Doctor, come lad."

Nick followed the Irish man to the stables were they were placed in the back of a wagon and pulled out into the streets. Nick hadn't seen beautiful sight as the streets of the town they were pulled through. Soon they pulled in front of a big white building. The Irish man pulled the single horse to a stop and applied the brake before going back and taking Heath back into his arms Nick only seconds behind. The old soldier led the way into the hospital where they shocked the Nurse that was on duty.

"If you please Ma'am this boy needs a Doctor."

The young lady stood there for a second staring at Heath and Nick before the Irish man growled. "Now lass, now!"

Snapped out of her shock the young Nurse all but ran to get some Doctors. When she reappeared she brought not one, but four. Heath was taken from the old soldier and began to get looked over by the Doctors. Nick was so focused on watching them examine Heath, that he almost didn't catch the sight of the old soldier turning and walking out of the hospital. Deciding Heath would be safe for the moment Nick took off after the man. Nick managed to catch him before he climbed

"Thank-you Sir, for getting Heath here. I can't pay you anything" Nick began only to be cut off.

"Lad, I'm no ones Sir, names Sean O'Connell. And you don't have to thank-me or anything like that. It's clear that you have been through something horrific. I'm just glad that I could help in this small way."

"Nick Barkley" returned Nick holding out his hand. Sean shook it firmly.

"Good luck lad and good luck to your brother, I have to return now."

Nick nodded and returned inside where Doctors were beginning to exam Heath.

Their faces were grim as they felt his pulse and his forehead before looking at his wounds. They were still an angry red and oozing. Most shook their heads and left to make preperations for the massive POW's that were going to be headed their way. Only one was left and he approached Nick. Nick was shaking his head even before he began to speak.

"I'm sorry son, but he is too far for us to help him" said the white haired doctor. "Infection has already set in and he is not well. The infection is too much for his weakened body, he probably won't make it."

But Nick refused to be denied, he didn't care if he had to beg. "Please help him!" begged Nick, there was still a chance. Heath was still breathing, that was all that was needed. "He's my brother! I can't go home without him!"

Those words slipped out so easily, to Nick it didn't even feel like a lie, like when he told the recorder Heath's last name was Barkley. A bond had been forged in Carterson between the two young men. In Nick's mind, Heath was as much his brother like Jared and Eugene was.

The Union Doctor's eyes grew soft and his earlier reluctance was gone as he gently laid Heath in the clean bed. The words moving him despite his earlier assessment. Heath looked no more than a child on the white sheets, not the sixteen that he was. Nick refused to leave his side, he stayed there while Heath wounds were washed and infected flesh scraped out. He stayed there as nurses spooned broth and water down his throat as his fever rose. He even stayed as the fever dreams started.

Doctors in realizing that they wouldn't be able to remove Nick from Heath's side made him a bed next to the blonde boy so that Nick could at least lay down as his body struggled to recover from the month in Carterson. While also making him take a bath and shaved his head to control the lice that he was infected with, the same with Heath. Every day he watched the doctors come and he knew that every day they came they expected to find Heath dead. But as the week passed and everyday Heath lay there breathing they were surprised.

It was such a relief that on the sixth day after they had arrived that Heath opened his eyes for the first time in weeks and they were clear.

"Nick?" he said his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Heath!" cried Nick practically leaping out of his cot to kneel next to Heath's head.

The look of relief on Heath's face was almost tangible. Tension melted out of his frame as he took in the sight of the black haired man. Though last he remembered Nick used to have more hair than the slight fuzz on his head. After a few long moments that Heath convinced himself that Nick was real did his eyes stray to look where they were. If he thought he was dreaming before it was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. They were in a light airy room with cots lining the walls, there was actual space to walk between the beds and the air was fresh. Looking at Nick again he realized that his face was clean of the soot that covered his face for so long.

"Are we dead?" he asked, because he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Nick chuckled, though his eyes began to water as he clasped Heath's hand. "No Heath, the war is over, Lee surrendered, we can go home."

Heath stared at Nick froze, and then he blinked and blinked again as tears began to fall from his eyes. Nick gently maneuvered Heath into the sitting position and slipped in behind, leaning Heath against his chest before wrapping his arms around him. Nick gently rocked Heath back and forth as sobs racked Heath's frame. "Shhh" he whispered "It's alright Heath. It will be all right. You'll see."

* * *

So I kind of speeded a few things up. Prisoners just didn't get shipped back North. Southern camps usually sent prisoners to other southern towns to get them out of Georgia, because of Sherman's march to the sea. In the show, Matt Bentell said he did the best he could, that he was a good man. So instead of sending the prisoners to other camps, he just sent them North. Also the war did not end when Lee surrendered, just to point out. Hoped you enjoyed.


	5. News

Even though the weather was ideal for a joyous mood, the Barkley ranch in California had been in a state of melancholy ever since the news from the army of Nick's disappearance. The only solace was that from Jarod's telegrams saying that now the war was over in the East he would be coming home soon.

Victoria tried to keep the image that everything was alright for Audra. The young girl didn't seem to notice the somber mood her parents were in. Neither Victoria or Tom had told their youngest that it was most likely that Nick would not be coming home.

Eugene seemed to know something was up, had seen how sad his Mother was, how their never seemed to be any letters from his older brother. But he kept his mouth shut, because he had seen the charade his parents were putting up for Audra and decided to do the same. He also felt that if he said anything the whole charade would fall apart and it would be true, that Nick wasn't coming home.

So he kept his mouth shut and played along for Audra's sake. But he made sure to make a few more extra gestures to his parents. Such as spending more time with his Father on the ranch, and giving his Mother extra hugs when she got a sad look on his face.

Right now he brought her some of her favorite flowers. She had smiled a real smile before shooing him outside.

Victoria was now calmly cutting the flowers to fill a vase in front of her, though her heart was in this simple task. She was simply doing it because it was expected of her. Audra would wonder why her Mother wasn't taking advantage of all the flowers blooming at the moment, when usually Victoria would fill the house with their sweet smells as she did every spring.

She was drawn out of this mundane task by the sound of the door knocking and moments later Silias entering the parlor with a letter in his hand.

"Mrs. Barkley, this letter just came for you" said Silias softly as he held the official looking envelope out for the lady of the house. The butler knew the last time he handed an envelope that had come to the ranch, that they had learned Nick might not be making it home. He only hoped that this letter held better news.

"Thank-you Silias" said Victoria taking the letter, noticing immediately that it bore the Union's post mark and was from Maryland. Victoria's hands shook as she opened the letter. She feared the contents, the last letter they received reported that Nick was missing, either dead or captured, no one knew.

Her hands trembled as she broke the seal and slowly pulled the letter out. Only to be greeted by a familiar scrawl inside.

 _Dear Mother and Father,_

 _I am alive and well. I have spent the last month as a prisoner of war in Georgia. It will be a month before I am fit enough to make the long journey home. When I do return I will not be alone. A boy I met at Carterson will be coming with me. He is the only reason I am here today, you can say that I've adopted him. I will see you both soon, please give my love to the rest of the family._

 _Love your son,_

 _Nick_

Victoria breathed a sigh of relief and pressed the letter to her chest, her boy was alive and coming home. Though it was just like her son not to put much detail in the letter. But Victoria couldn't find it in herself to complain, her son was coming, the son she thought she would never hear from again.

Tom found her in the same position minutes later. He immediately thought something was wrong when he saw the tears streaming down her face. "Victoria, what is it?"

"Nick" she said smiling through her tears, "He's alive." She offered him the letter for him to read.

Tom quickly took the letter from her hands and soon his own tears were streaming down his face. Putting the letter aside for a moment he gathered Victoria in his arms and together they just clung to each other in joy that the son they had thought lost was now coming home.

* * *

Welcome to the End of this story! Keep an eye out for the sequel, it will get up someday.


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